(Author’s note: I’m re-posting this essay as it is the pivotal point in my life. It cost me my life. What followed after this event was constant turmoil, and with the “help” of others (meaning just the opposite of course) I managed to screw up my life totally. I take that back, this one event screwed up my life forever.
I need to embrace the fact that I was not to blame, and that my thought process was always going to be influenced by what happened.
I’ve done my best and all in all there have been some very good times. Way too many bad.
I am letting this go.)
If someone were to call this minute and ask what I was up to, I’d have to bluntly say “I’m writing about being raped when I was 7.”
There that helped, it’s said and done. You don’t need to read on, but some of these details led to a lot of the problems…

